A Truly Terrible Fate
by Stoneage Woman
Summary: Some friendships are just not meant to be...even in death. The final parting of Aragorn and Legolas. No Slash. Oneshot.


Title: A Truly Terrible Fate

Legolas frowned at the man in front of him. He was a messenger…from Gondor. It had been a long time since he had received a message from Aragorn. _Perhaps he is asking me to come and visit him,_ Legolas thought.

"King Elessar sent this?" Legolas asked the man.

"Yes, my lord," the man answered.

Legolas reached for the letter and then surveyed the man again. He looked tired from many days of travel. His clothes were dirty and wrinkled.

"You will rest here tonight. Culas will take you to your quarters," he nodded toward his majordomo, "Your horse too will be tended well."

"Dismissed, sire?" Culas asked him.

"Dismissed," Legolas nodded.

He waited until the men had gone until he opened the letter. It was written in Aragorn's neat handwriting.

_Dear Legolas,_

_You know that I am ageing now. I cannot continue on this earth anymore. I have decided to give myself up to the land of dead. I would advise that you do not come and see me now. When you receive this letter, I will be preparing to sink into a deep sleep, somewhere between life and death, from which there is no waking. I would have waited for you, had I not been sure that our parting would be far sadder if I met you before I died. If you come galloping to Gondor now, all you will find is a half-dead corpse. I entreat you not to. I think we have said all we had to say in this long friendship. Let us not mar it with sad goodbyes. I have taken great joy from our friendship. I will never forget these wonderful years. They have meant much to me. I suggest you move on too, mellonamin. Go to Valinor. It is where you are destined to be. I shall not say farewell, it is too sad a word. I shall just…end._

_Your friend forever,_

_Aragorn._

Legolas stared at the letter in shock. He could not believe it. Despite what Aragorn had said, he knew he needed to see him, one last time. He ran out of the palace without any ado, startling the wits out of his majordomo. He did not even stop to collect food or clothes. He just leapt upon the first horse that he saw, and sped away, quicker than thought.

…

"Prince Legolas!" Eldarion, the new king, cried, "You're not supposed to be here. Father told me-"

"Where is he?" Legolas asked, his voice low and harsh, "Answer quickly, for the Valar's sake!"

"He is in the second room on the first floor, on the right, but - where are you going?"

He received no answer from the prince, who had already run out of the room.

…

He stopped running just short of the door to the room. He did not want to enter it, suddenly. He did not want to see his best friend lying on some bed in a cold death-like slumber from which there was absolutely no return.

His problem was solved for him when the door suddenly opened to reveal two elves, like as peas, with long dark hair up to their waists…

"Elladan! Elrohir! What are you doing here?" he said, still managing to infuse some joy into his voice, despite his grief, when he saw them.

"A question we'd like to ask you," Elrohir replied frowning, "Estel told you specifically not to come, did he not?"

"I must see him. He's my best friend, I have to say goodbye at the very least." He gave them a pleading look.

"Alright, alright!" Elladan said, putting his hands up, "No one can deny you that right, at least. But you must hurry. We've…already arranged the funeral, Legolas. He doesn't have much longer…just a few more minutes."

Legolas let out an exclamation of distress and hurried into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Should we- you know, should we go in and comfort him?" Elrohir asked hesitantly.

"Do you think anything we can say can comfort him?" replied the other, a catch in his voice. "I do not think either of us can understand his position now. My heart aches and I feel inexplicably lost, but at least I'll always have you to rely on for comfort. Legolas has _nobody._ Think what that means for a moment. He has grown far too attached to mortals for his own good. Everyone he truly loves leaves him in the end. I thought Estel's decision to inform Legolas later was for the best, but now I'm really not that sure. After seeing the look on his face…"

"He'll pull through," Elrohir said, not sounding very convincing at all, "He always does."

"I'm not so sure whether he will this time," Elladan said shaking his head, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

…

Legolas stepped hesitantly up to the bed, not knowing exactly how he would react. Aragorn was lying in the bed, covered in a clean white blanket, his peaceful face smiling slightly as he slept.

Legolas stared at that face. It was not the sight of his usually active friend that made the grief rain down on him; it was the sight of the peace on his face. _I will never be that peaceful,_ Legolas reflected a little bitterly. His heart began to ache and throb. His body began to shake.

Yet his eyes remained clear. He was so much of an expert at controlling his emotions that even this would not make him weep. He suddenly realized that the last time he had shed so much as a tear had been more than a thousand years ago, when his mother had died.

"Nana!" he had cried out in anguish, "Wake up! Please wake up…please…" that had been when he was still very young and he did not understand death. He had sobbed and shaken his mothers shoulders till Thranduil had explained to him that he would see her again, in the Undying Lands, where elves that died ultimately ended up. He had grown up then, knowing that she was gone to him forever. He had also realized that crying was weak…and had never shed a tear since then.

But could he bear it now? Did he have the strength to prevent himself from breaking down right then and there and weeping his heart out? It seemed as though an age's sorrow had piled above his head and all the sorrow he had ever felt was threatening to crash upon him in waves that would most certainly kill him.

Something in the back of his head told him that he _should_ cry, wash away the poison of all those wounds. But the guard that he had put up so often was up again. It was too strong to pull down, even if he had wanted to. He knew then that years of habit had made the wall that checked his grief unbreakable. He would never cry…but the grief he felt would manifest it in other ways.

He stared down at Estel's face. Grief shook him again, sending him to his knees. He put his head on Estel's chest, and found little comfort in the fact that his heart beat was slowing beat…by beat…by beat.

Another wave of grief and pain shook his body again. His head sank more heavily into Estel's sleeping chest. As surely as Estel's life ebbed, Legolas slipped deeper and deeper into darkness. It began to claw at the edges of his mind. He shuddered convulsively.

In a few minutes he had lost so much strength that the only thing that kept him upright on his knees was the support of Estel's strong solid chest. As his strength ebbed, Estel's beating heart grew louder and louder in his ears, and echoing in his mind, jarring his head. He gritted his teeth in pain, but he was too far-gone to figure out whether that pain was mental or physical. Each time Aragorn's heart beat Legolas would feel a little weaker. Finally, when the darkness at the edges of his mind began to claim him completely, he raised his head with his last strenght to look at Estel's face.

"Goodbye, mellonamin," he said softly. The next moment his head was once more buried in Aragorn's chest, and his body was limp…

…

It had been fifteen minutes since Legolas had entered Estel's room, and he still hadn't come out. Elladan tried not to think of Legolas hunched at the foot of a dead Estel, sobbing uncontrollably…

He and Elrohir had been walking up and down in rhythmic succession for the last fifteen minutes, without stopping. Fifteen minutes of doing nothing but that felt like an eternity. Now, however Elrohir shook himself out of his reverie.

"We must go inside now," he said to his brother, "Estel is dead by now, that's certain. It isn't healthy for Legolas to be sitting next to corpse like this…we _must_ go in now, regardless of his state."

"Alright," Elladan said. Before he could have second thoughts about the matter he flung the door open.

…

"Legolas?" Elrohir said tentatively.

There was no answer. The elf was kneeling with his head buried in Estel's chest. Obviously weeping.

He exchanged a worried look with Elladan and then bent to shake Legolas's shoulder.

The elf's limp form fell back into his arms, and he dropped it like it had stung him. He stared in horror at Elladan.

_They cannot be together,_ he found himself thinking in numb sorrow, _not even in death. Their paths shall always differ…Aragorn finds happiness no matter where he goes, but Legolas will remain unhappy even in death. A truly terrible fate for so fair a prince._

He raised the dead elf from the floor on to his lap, and closed his staring, blank eyes with shaking fingers.

THE END

And that, my friends, is the end. Very depressing, I know. Hope you liked it. Please R&R!


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